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Time Enough For Slaying.

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This story is No. 16 in the series "Grim up North.". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: From what Buffy knew about time machines logic suggested that time travel would use ‘wicked’ amounts of power; there didn’t appear a nuclear reactor or flux capacitor anywhere in sight.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > Sci-Fi > Author: H. G. Wells(Recent Donor)DaveTurnerFR151027,8732519,73818 Jul 115 Aug 11Yes

Chapter Two.


“The slayer?” Frown lines appeared between George’s eyebrows, “Is that some sort of tribal title?”

“What?” Buffy stared at the man wondering what he was talking about; tribal title?

“Well, it must be obvious even to an ignorant savage such as yourself…” George didn’t get a chance to finish what he was saying; the ‘ignorant savage’ had him by the throat and choked off his words.

“Hey!” Buffy lifted the man one armed until his toes were only just touching the floor, “I’ll have you know that I went to university and everything,” Buffy got control of her temper and let go of the man’s neck, “Sorry,” she said as she let him breath again, “I just don’t like being called an ‘ignorant savage’, okay?”

“My apologises,” George rubbed his neck where Buffy’s finger marks were slowly fading, “most strange,” George scratched the back of his head as he bent to pick up his note book again. “University you say?”

“Uh-huh,” Buffy was now standing next to the machine studying it intently, “UC Sunnydale in California.”

“Oh!” George scribbled something in his book, “That explains it then.”

“Explains what?” Buffy turned her head to look over her shoulder at the man.

“This ‘UC Sunnydale’ place couldn’t be a proper university,” George explained.

“Why?” Buffy turned towards George and placed her hands on her hips.

“Well,” George sounded as if he didn’t need to explain, “You know, letting women in…its not right, no proper university should do such a thing.”

“You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’,” Buffy pointed her finger at George as she used a phrase she’d picked up from the younger English slayers, “you know that, right?”

“Hm?” Once again George was scribbling away in his book; it was like he was writing down everything she said.

Buffy decided to put off the beating this jerk so obviously needed; she’d thought Giles had been ‘stuffy’ (and what was the other English word, oh-yes, snooty) when they’d first met. But this guy just ‘took the biscuit’. Buffy frowned to herself; she must be turning English, she was even using English phrases in her own head now.

“Okay,” Buffy relaxed a little, she decided to find out what this guy’s game was, she gestured to the machine, “like, what’s this thing?”

“That ‘thing’,” George rushed across the room to stand protectively next to his ‘baby’, “is my greatest invention yet…”

“Well?” Buffy examined her nails while she waited for George to get to the point.

“I don’t expect an ig…” George thought twice about calling Buffy an ‘ignorant savage’ again, instead he chose, “young woman, such as yourself to understand…”

“Oh, you’d be totally surprised at what I understand,” Buffy replied with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Yes,” George sighed quietly, “I expect I would,” more loudly he announced, “this is my Time Machine!”

“Get out of here!” Buffy grinned and looked again at the machine.

“You want me to go?” Perplexed George stayed just where he was.

“No!” Buffy gave the contraption another hard look, “Gotta say, it doesn’t look much like a DeLorian or one of those Police Box things.”

“But this is my greatest invention!” George looked imploringly into Buffy’s disbelieving eyes, “I’ve been working on it for years.”

Going back to studying the machine, Buffy listened with half an ear to what George was rambling on about. From what she knew about time machines (which as she would freely admit wasn’t a lot) the whole contraption (there was that word again, Buffy tutted to herself) didn’t look as if it could be a time machine if it tried. Surely it should have some sort of capsule to protect the traveller. Also logic suggested that time travel would use ‘wicked’ amounts of power; there didn’t appear to be a car battery, let alone a nuclear reactor or flux capacitor anywhere in sight.

Her use of the word ‘wicked’ made Buffy look up at the big disc thing behind the chair. There were what looked like magical symbols engraved into the metal. Buffy’s lips drew into a thin line as her jaw set. Damn-it-all! Wouldn’t these people ever learn? Standing up she turned angrily towards George.

“Okay,” Buffy poked him in the chest with her forefinger, “just tell me which demon you made a deal with to make this thing work?”


Creeping up to the house, Maddy and Gillian heard the sound of raised voices. When Buffy had sneaked off into the garden, the girls, had carried on down to the main road as they’d been told. Standing on the corner of the street they’d waited patiently for a couple of minutes. After growing more worried by the second they’d come to the conclusion that the reason for Miss Simmers’ none appearance was due to her being in some life or death struggle with a fiend from hell; she obviously needed their help.

Turning they trotted back up the road until the came to the boarded up house. They made their way through the bushes, across the lawn and up to the window where Buffy had torn away the planks and gained access. Nervously they peeped around the corner of the window frame.

Although there didn’t appear to be a lot of demons or anything immediately ‘hell-fiendy’ looking. There did appear to be a lot of shouting and finger waving and poking. It sort of reminded the girls of when their brothers got together in the pub on a Sunday afternoon and were arguing about football…not that they’d know about that because they never went to the pub. After all it wasn’t their fault if they looked eighteen with make-up on.

Illicit visits to pubs aside, although there didn’t seem to be much fighting going on, the girls decided that they better make there arrival known. Maybe then the guy in the weird clothes (who was obviously a demon in disguise) wouldn’t attack Miss Summers. Although, the girls exchanged a wicked grin, if the demon did attack Miss Summers and they were there to ‘rescue’ her… No! The girls frowned at each other for thinking such a thing, that would be unforgivable it would also be wicked cool. Forgetting all thoughts about riding to the rescue of the Slayer-in-Chief, the girls burst into the room.

“MISS!” cried Maddy (or possibly Gillian) as they burst into the room, “OH!” the girls gasped in unison, “Oh-dear!”

They stared in horror at the space that up until a few moments ago had contained Miss Summers, the demon and the demon’s machine.

“Oh-my-god!” they chorused.


Buffy would never be sure exactly how it had happened. Later she worked out what had probably gone down; she’d been arguing with George about whether his machine was science or magic powered. He’d been standing protectively in front of his machine while she (she now admitted) had been getting right in his face. Next Maddy and Gillian had burst into the room shouting something.

Shocked, George had taken a step back, caught the back of his leg on the rail that surrounded the machine and started to fall backwards. Instinctively he’d reached out and grabbed hold of Buffy’s arm as he’d tried to steady himself. Surprised by the sudden appearance of the two girls and being grabbed my George, Buffy stumbled and succeeded in tumbling herself and George into the machine.

Thinking she was being attacked, Buffy tried to fight off George’s fumbling hands. When she felt his touch on her breasts, Buffy saw red and pulled back her arm ready to punch the freak in the face, unfortunately her elbow knocked one of the levers on the control panel, there was a lurch and the disc began to spin and Buffy felt like she was falling.


The Rosenberg-Scarpone Residence.

Looking at the long whip in her hand, Kennedy couldn’t help but feel something was wrong; things had gone just a little too far too quickly for her liking. While she was the first to admit that the sight of Willow’s rosy red butt cheeks squirming about in her lap was a big turn on. Plus what she couldn’t do with her tongue or a feather while Willow was tied to their bed just wasn’t worth knowing; this didn’t feel right. Glancing at her girlfriend as she hung naked from the hook in the ceiling, Kennedy let the whip fall to her side; she looked at Willow as she hung there, her toes barely touching the floor.

“Huh?” Willow asked through the ball-gag in her mouth.

“Look,” Kennedy rolled up the whip and put it neatly on a nearby table, “I can’t go through with this it doesn’t feel right.”

“Huh-he-huh!” Willow pleaded as she hung at the other end of the room.

“Oh, don’t you come the old ‘if you loved me you’d do it’, with me, my girl,” Kennedy said angrily, “and this ‘Mistress of Pain’ outfit you wanted me to wear,” Kennedy picked at the skin tight, black leather cat-suit she was wearing, “its all hot and sweaty and it chaffs in places I’d much prefer it didn’t and these shoes!” She winced as she took a step towards Willow, “The heels are way too high and they’re making my feet hurt.”

“Uh-uuuuh,” Willow looked sympathetically at Kennedy before brightening up a little, “Uh-huh-he-huh-huh,” she pointed out.

“No I will not take them off,” Kennedy swiftly crossed the room to where Willow hung, “at least not until I’ve got you down.”

“Huuuuh,” sighed Willow sadly.

“How did you get yourself up here anyway?” Kennedy lifted Willow off the hook and sat her down on their bed, “Magic I suppose.”

“Huh-he,” Willow apologised just as the phone rang; Kennedy reached across the bed and picked up Willow’s mobile phone.

“Hello, Willow’s phone, Kennedy speaking,” Kennedy listen for a moment, “I’m sorry she can’t come to the phone right now, she’s…” Kennedy smiled to herself, she’d always wanted to say this, “um, she’s a little tied up at the moment. Can I help?”

As Kennedy listened all signs of amusement slowly left her face.

“Okay,” she said into the phone, “we’ll be there like yesterday, ‘bye,” closing the phone she hung up. “That was Giles,” she started to untie Willow’s wrists, “there’s a problem, with Buffy.”

“HUH!?” Willow demanded.

“Oh, nothing too bad I’m sure,” Kennedy removed the last piece of rope and looked at Willow’s red raw wrists, “now look what you’ve done here, I’ll have to put dressings on those before we go out.”

“Huh huh-he?” Willow wanted to know as she tried to loosen the buckles that secured the ball gag.

“Nothing too serious,” Kennedy started to unzip her cat suit, “just that a couple of the trainees reported seeing Buffy vanish with a demon on some sort of machine.”

“HUUUUUUUH!!!” Screamed Willow pointing to the gag urgently.

“OH,” Kennedy, half out of her leather suit, looked at Willow and smirked, “I was going to leave that in, stop your incessant babbling, you know?”

“Huuuuh,” Willow growled deeply in her throat.

“Alright, alright,” Kennedy reached behind Willow’s head and started to work on the buckles, “no need to go all black haired and veiny.”


The Time Machine.

Trying to fight off George’s fumbling hands; Buffy squirmed around on top of him attempting to get herself upright so she could give this creep the slaying he so richly deserved. Finally she had him pinned to the seat while she sat astride his lamp, Mr Pointy was already in her hand and she was just about to plunge it into his chest when something caught her eye. Someone had switched on a strobe light or something. Lowering her arm, Buffy twisted in George’s lap so she could get a better view of what was going on around her. The strobing effect got faster and faster and for a moment she thought she was going to be sick. However the strobing stopped as the light took on a sort of grey twilight quality.

“What the hell?” Buffy gasped.

“The machine!” Mumbled George from between her breasts.

“The what?” Buffy leaned back and looked down into George’s worried eyes.

“The machine,” he repeated, “you must have knocked the control lever…we must be speeding through time. Get off me, I have to stop it!”

“Okay, okay,” Buffy found her footing and eased herself off George; she was just about to step over the brass rail that surrounded the seat when George grabbed hold of her and pulled her into his arms. “HEY!” Buffy raised Mr Pointy ready to stab.

“No stop!” Pleaded George, “You’ve got to stay inside the rails.”

“What?” Buffy relaxed a little, perhaps the jerk wasn’t a demon-sex-freak after all (they tended to have more hands and longer…well we won’t go into what they had ‘longer’).

“Look,” George sighed with relief as he saw Buffy lowering her stake, “we’re in a sort of bubble of moving time. If you step outside the bubble you’ll be stepping out into normal, stationary time.”

Buffy frowned unsure what the problem was.

“It would be like stepping off an express train while it was travelling at a hundred miles an hour!” George explained.

“Oh,” Buffy looked apprehensively at the brass rail, “that would be bad.”

“Fatal,” agreed George, “now let me get to the controls. I’ll slow us to a halt then I’ll take you back to your time.” He looked questioningly at Buffy, “You do remember the date don’t you?”

“Of course I remember the date,” Buffy smiled while she frantically tried to remember the correct date, was it the third or the fourth?

“Good, good,” George stood up and squeezed around Buffy so he could get to the controls.

Eventually Buffy found herself sitting in the seat with George perched on her knees.

“Couldn’t you have made this a two-seater or something,” Buffy asked as George fiddled with the controls, “Well?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh dear,” George replied nervously.

“Oh dear?” Buffy frowned at the tone of worry in George’s voice, “I have a friend who says ‘oh dear’ just before something terrible happens. ‘Oh dear’ is never of the good.”

“Erm,” George’s fingers moved frantically across the control panel, “I’m sure I’ll be able to repair it.”

“Repair what?” Buffy wanted to know.

Shuffling around so he was facing Buffy, George held up one of the levers from the control panel.

“It broke off,” he announced, “one of us must have hit it when we were struggling together.”

“So,” Buffy smiled hopefully, “it’s broken off? You have a spare, right?”

“It wouldn’t do any good if I had a ‘spare’ as you call it,” George’s face clouded over with worry as he studied the lever. “It’s broken off where it screws into the machine, you see?”

Buffy did in fact see, the snapped off metal shone at her tauntingly.

“Just how bad is it?” She asked slowly.

“Well,” George explained sadly, “if we don’t find a way of stopping, the machine will go on for all eternity until the very end of time itself!”


Willow’s Office, Slayer Central.

“Erm, Kennedy,” Giles stood next to Kennedy and whispered in her ear, “why is Willow wearing that thing in her mouth?”

“You don’t want to know,” Kennedy whispered back.

“Oh,” there was just a hint of menace in Giles’ voice now, “I think I do.”

“Okay,” Kennedy turned to stare into the senior watcher’s eyes, she decided to let the menacing tone go for now, Giles was obviously worried about Willow so she explained.

“You’re quite right, Kennedy,” Giles sighed once Kennedy had finished her explanation, “I apologise for doubting you…and the other thing, again you were quite right, I didn’t want to know.”

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